


Wish

by WrtrGrl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amusement Parks, Fluff, M/M, Muggle Studies, Podfic Welcome, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27556657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrtrGrl/pseuds/WrtrGrl
Summary: Some thing stay the same, and others don't."Scared Potter?""You Wish."
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2020





	Wish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [orpheous87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orpheous87/gifts).



**Wish**

‘Scared Potter?’

The words were like a bizarre, twisted sort of ritual; sometimes a challenge (okay, _usually_ a challenge) but sometimes an offer of comfort. A message of solidarity. A phrase that told Harry that while some things inevitably changed, others never would. There would always be this. This thing that existed between them.

The first time Malfoy said the words, they’d been standing in the doorway of their new eighth year dorm room—one of ten rooms that led off of a main common area for their entire year.

Rather than put them back into their houses, McGonagall had decided that the returning eighth years needed to “reconcile differences” and “heal together” and had lumped them all in some previously abandoned part of the castle.

Hermione, of course, had been thrilled at the idea.

‘Of course, _you’re_ excited,’ Ron had griped when Harry and Ron had received their time-tables and realised they’d been sorted into different rooms. ‘You get to get away from Lavender and Parvati. We _liked_ rooming together. Instead, we’re going to get lumped with a bunch of Slytherins. And you just _know_ Harry and Malfoy are going to get dumped in the same room together.’

Hermione rolled her eyes. ‘You’re just being overdramatic.’

‘Really?’ asked Harry, glancing dubiously up at the head table. ‘You don’t think McGonagall will put me and Malfoy together as some sort of example?’

Hermione grimaced and didn’t bother answering. She didn’t have to. It was inevitable really and they all knew it. Looking across at Slytherin table, Harry caught Malfoy’s grey-eyed gaze. That familiar scowl flitted into place, and Harry knew that a similar conversation was being had over there.

The reality, though? Was _so_ much worse.

Harry, his timetable in his hand, stepped into the eighth year dorm behind Ron and Hermione, and looked around curiously.

‘Oh,’ said Hermione, looking around in surprise. ‘Wow.’

Wow, was right. The room was circular in shape, and rose up into a high, cathedral arch above their heads. The ceiling—much like the ceiling in the Great Hall—was translucent. Only (judging from the sun-beams filtering down into the room) this ceiling was not enchanted; It was made out of glass.

A staircase led up to a second floor. Well, it wasn’t so much a floor as a railed walkway (just wide enough for two people to walk side by side) that ran along the entire perimeter of the wall. Several—ten, Harry counted quickly—doors were evenly spaced along the walkway.

‘It looks like a unicorn threw up a rainbow in here,’ muttered Ron, glancing around the room with a wrinkled nose.

Harry grinned and bit down on a chuckle. He wasn’t wrong. The circular room was a mis-match of the house colours. Varying shades of blues, reds, greens, and yellows had been thrown about the room without any discernible order or pattern. Harry spotted a few chairs in the corner that (although a hideous shade of yellow) looked like they’d come from Gryffindor tower and instantly gravitated toward that direction.

‘We should find our rooms and get settled,’ said Hermione, gesturing upwards. Harry sighed and resigned himself to unpacking, looking back longingly at the chairs.

At the top of the stairs, Harry leaned over the rail to look down into the common area.

‘Going to jump, Potter?’

Still leaning out over the rail, Harry turned his head to see Malfoy walking up the stairs. ‘Enjoying the view, actually. But if you’d like me to move out of your way,’ said Harry, stepping back and gesturing at the rail.

‘Harry,’ Hermione scolded.

Harry shrugged and, feeling awkward, turned away from Malfoy. It was hard to know where they stood, what with the events in the Room of Requirement, and Harry speaking at his trial and all.

‘What room are you in ‘Mione?’ asked Ron.

‘Four. Just here I think. Well, go on you two, you’re holding up the line.’

Harry and Ron did as they were told and moved on. Harry, counting the doors as they walked, stopped outside of one that had a large bronze Seven on it.

‘Well, this is me,’ he said, glancing back at Ron before pushing open the door.

Two boys looked up. Terry Boot had taken the bed on the far side of the room and—

‘Oh fuck,’ said Harry, staring inside in disbelief.

Ron, poking his head around Harry, snorted in Harry’s ear.

‘Good luck mate,’ he said, chuckling as he clapped Harry on the shoulder. ‘You’re gonna need it.’

He walked off toward his own room, still chuckling under his breath, and Harry debated throwing a hex after him. He turned back to his room.

Zacharias Smith gazed back at him with a sneer from the far opposite bed from Terry, leaving only two beds remaining in between them. One for Harry and one for—

‘Scared, Potter?’

Harry jumped, turning and finding Draco sodding Malfoy right at his shoulder. Though he had that familiar smirk plastered on his stupid pointy face, he leaned back against the rail outside the door and watched Harry, his gaze watchful and appraising as he waited for a response; waiting to see how Harry would handle this.

With dawning horror, Harry realised that not only was he sharing a room with Malfoy, but he was sharing a room with Malfoy _and_ Smith. For an entire year. He wasn’t sure which one was worse.

No, that was a lie. He glanced in at Smith and tried not to grimace. He definitely knew which was worse.

Behind him, he could practically feel Malfoy’s smirk boring into the back of his head.

Harry gritted his teeth. He took a deep breath and levelled Malfoy with as unperturbed a look as he could manage. ‘You wish,’ he said, and turned his back on his once nemesis and entered the room

***

Muggle Studies was compulsory for all returning Eighth years. Forty students crammed into a classroom built for less than half that number, and it didn’t take long for things to get out of hand.

An argument started. Harry wasn’t sure how. He didn’t even remember what it was over. All he knew was that he’d somehow, someway, found himself standing in the centre of the room with his hand clasped tight in the hand of one Draco Malfoy, while the rest of their classmates wait in an eager circle around them.

Harry shook his head, utterly bewildered, listening to their teacher excitedly explain how, of the many various ways Muggles use to settle a dispute or argument, this was her favourite.

Malfoy, taking this far too seriously, smirked and gave Harry’s fingers a brief squeeze. ‘Scared, Potter?’

Harry raised an eyebrow. ‘You wish.’

Ron, their designated referee, glanced down at his script (Harry rolled his eyes)and, with a loud voice shouted, ‘One two three four, I declare a _thumb war! GO!’_

Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, Harry was not going to let Malfoy win at a Muggle game. He clenched his jaw, drowned out the crowd, and attempted to pin Malfoy’s thumb.

Malfoy’s brows furrowed in concentration and he chewed on his bottom lip as he fought to free himself and capture Harry in return. It was a tic of his. Something Harry had noticed now that they were sharing a room together.

Malfoy’s grip was firm, but not painful, and he bowed his head, his eyes glinting in determination, his gaze flashing up to meet Harry’s in a swift but challenging grin.

Harry returned it and found that he suddenly didn’t care that he was practically holding hands with Draco Malfoy in front if everyone.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spotted Hermione rolling her eyes.

***

Harry jerked awake, gasping as something sharp and stinging dug into his hips. He scrambled to get away, only he was trapped, caught in something tight around his chest—something that constricted the more he struggled.

Gasping, he scrabbled hard and went toppling over the side of his bed. His shoulder hit the ground a nanosecond before his head, and he rolled onto his back, panting, realising too late that it was not, in fact, a snake that bad him in it’s grasp, but his bedsheets.

He groaned and ran a hand over his face.

‘Good,’ snarled Smith. ‘Now that you’re awake, kindly shut up so the rest of us can sleep.’

Harry dropped his hand away from his face and sat up. Smith glared at him from the next bed over, his wand in his hand.

‘Did...did you just hex me?’ Harry asked, still dizzy from being woken so sharply from the nightmare he’d been having.

‘Well you were thrashing about like a fucking crazy person, so yeah, I hexed you,’ said Smith stiffly, tucking his wand back into his bedside table draw. ‘Now shut up. I have an assignment due tomorrow and I don’t want to be too tired to work on it just because The Boy Who Has Nightmares can’t keep his problems to himself.’

With that, Smith yanked his curtains closed.

Stunned and more than a little pissed off (not to mention embarrassed that someone had been witness to his nightmares), Harry pushed himself to his feet and reached for his wand to figure out what the hell had happened to his nightly silencing charms.

On his feet, he turned to the carnage that was his bed and froze.

Malfoy was leaning up on his elbow watching him.

‘You cast a diffindo on your curtains,’ he said in a low voice. ‘That’s when the silencing charm failed.’

‘Oh,’ said Harry, and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away awkwardly. ‘Sorry.’

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. ‘Doesn’t bother me.’ He sat up, watching as Harry repaired his curtains. ‘I’ve never seen someone cast magic in their sleep before.’

‘Uh, yeah. Me either. I didn’t...well obviously I didn’t mean it,’ Harry sighed.

He rubbed a hand over his face and immediately winced, glancing down and lifting his shirt to examine the mark on his hip. Smith had obviously had to hex him more than once to wake him up, as there were three red welts starting to bruise along his side. Harry sighed.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t hex him back.’

‘I might’ve if I hadn’t been so confused,’ Harry admitted, and threw a scowl over at Smith’s closed curtains. ‘Prick.’

‘You should.’

‘What, hex him?’

‘Yeah.’

Harry snorted. ‘It’s Smith. He’s not worth the effort.’

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. ‘Scared, Potter?’

Harry’s gaze snapped back to Malfoy. He was watching Harry with that now-familiar appraising look that was half challenge and half...what? An offer of conspiratorial friendship? At the very least, he was an alley against Smith.

A slow grin spread across Harry’s face. ‘You wish,’ he said. ‘What will we do to him?’

‘Oh,’ said Draco, twirling his wand through his fingers. ‘I’m sure we’ll think of _something_.’

***

As part of the clean up efforts after the war, the Eighth years had been tasked with helping rebuild sections of the castle as part of their practical spellwork. This was a task of great privilege; a way of saying “we are trusting you with this responsibility” instead of making them do homework.

Most students were excited to begin, to try their hand at more rigorous magic. Most students were not Harry Potter.

Harry hung back as they approached the seventh floor corridor. One by one (under the watchful eye of Professor Flitwick) students stepped through into the burnt out remains of the Room of Requirement. Many of them had used the room for one purpose or another, as a hide out, a secret escape, attending Dumbledore’s Army, or hiding out from the Carrow brothers the year before. Even so, none had seen the room in it’s current state.

None except Harry.

‘Watch your step, yes, yes, alright now…’ as Professor Flitwick began to explain their task, Harry hovered in the doorway, not quite able to bring himself to step into the room proper.

They were to identify any residual magic threats, save and repair what items could be saved, and dispose of the rest. A buzz of excitement went through the students at the prospect of going through all the magical items left remaining in the room. They didn’t know that the destruction they were seeing hadn’t just taken away the Room’s magic. It had also taken away a fellow classmate’s life.

Harry swallowed and tried to pretend that he hadn’t been there the day Vincent Crabbe had died. He clenched his hands in the fabric of his robes and tried to talk himself up. Tried to push himself to take that final step into the room within.

‘Scared, Potter?’

Harry looked up so fast his neck cracked. Malfoy leaned against the wall outside, watching him with shrouded eyes. He looked as immaculate and arrogant as ever, except…except there was something in that gaze. In the way it stayed pinned on Harry, never once straying toward the inside of the room where his friend had died.

Harry chewed on the inside of his mouth. ‘What if I said yes?’

Malfoy blinked, grey eyes widening just a fraction. Just enough to tell Harry that he’d surprised him. Malfoy glanced toward the door, just for a moment, before his gaze shied away again with a frown that was all points and sharpness. When he looked back at Harry, there was fear in his eyes.

He licked his lips. ‘Then I’d say that maybe…maybe you aren’t the only one.’

Harry inhaled deeply through his nose. He held it for a moment, before pushing all the air out of his lungs in a long steady exhale. He nodded.

‘Alright,’ he said, and squaring his shoulders he gestured toward the room. ‘Come on then.’

‘What?’

‘We’ll go in together,’ said Harry, and indicated the space beside him.

Malfoy stared at him, bewilderment flashing across his face. Though after a moment of hesitation he pushed himself away from the wall and stood next to Harry.

They faced the charred door of the Room of Requirement shoulder to shoulder. Harry’s mouth went dry and he tried to focus on their classmates, rather than the blackened remains of the items in the room.

‘Ask me again,’ he said abruptly, unable to quite make himself take that first step yet.

‘What?’

‘Ask me again. The question.’

There was a beat of silence and then, ‘Scared, Potter?’

Harry sucked in a deep breath and unclenched his fists from his robes, flexing his fingers. His hand brushed passed Malfoy’s with the motion and he glanced sideways. Funny how the last time they were in this room they’d been trying to kill each other. Now…Harry found comfort in the presence of the other boy at his shoulder.

Harry squared his shoulders. He dug for that determination and defiance that Malfoy so often made him feel, dug for the indignation and the will to rise to the challenge and, with as much ferocity as he could manage he said, ‘You wish,’ and stepped into the room.

Draco stepped with him.

***

‘Alright!’ called Professor Sutton (the new Muggle Studies teacher), clapping her hands together and surveying them all with a bright smile. ‘Have we all gotten food? Excellent. Now, you have three hours the first check in. Have you all got enough tickets? Back up money? Sunscreen? Yes? Excellent. Remember, stay in groups of at least two and if anyone gets lost, I’ll be right over there by the coffee cart grading your mid-year papers—’ here she shot them a cheeky grin and a wink. ‘—Alright, off you go!’

‘What do we do first?’ asked Ron, staring around the park with wide eyes, his mouth gaping open as he turned in a circle to survey the sheer magnitude of colour and noise around them.

Hermione, her nose predictably buried in a map, began plotting the most logical path for them to take. Harry, buzzing with more excitement than he knew what to do with, couldn’t care less about logic.

‘Let’s go on the rollercoaster!’ he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet in his excitement.

Hermione frowned down at the map in her hands. ‘It’s all the way on the other side of the map. I think we should go through Carnival Lane, working our way up to—’

‘Let’s go on the rollercoaster,’ Harry interrupted imploringly. ‘ _Please_. We can do the rest later I just…come on, please?’

Hermione finally tore her gaze away from the map long enough to focus on him. Her frown, the one she got when she’s trying to figure out a puzzle, eased when she saw his face.

‘You want to go on the rollercoaster,’ she said, a soft smile on her face.

Harry nodded.

She rolled her eyes but smiled indulgently. ‘Alright. The quickest way is through here.’

‘Yes!’

Harry all but dragged the two of them there. With all their deliberating, they weren’t the first ones to get there. There was a small crowd of Hogwarts students already gathered at the base of the monstrous ride, gaping up at the contraption that so many Muggles were lined up eagerly to ride.

Air buffeted past them, the screams of riders already distant as the cart sped away, spinning through the loop-de-loop, and Harry’s breath caught in his throat.

Ron gulped and shook his head. ‘No way. Not a fucking chance.’

Harry laughed, excitement and terror coursing through him, making his blood rush and his ears ring with the thrill of what awaited him.

‘Oh come on, please?’

‘Harry, mate, that thing looks like a death trap. Maybe…maybe later yeah? I think Hermione’s right. We should…we should build up to it.’

Harry’s shoulders slumped and he looked to Hermione.

She gave him an apologetic smile and shook her head. ‘I’m not really into rollercoasters.’

Adrenaline fading, Harry sighed, looking up at the rollercoaster wistfully.

‘You could go on your own?’

‘Where’s the fun in that?’ Harry said broodingly.

He kicked at the ground and stared at Ron, hoping to wear his friend down. Ron glanced back up as the rollercoaster whooshed by them again.

‘Scared, Potter?’

Malfoy stood nearby, watching them with his arms crossed and a small smirk on his face. Blaise and Greg were next to him, each with identical looks of horror on their faces as they gazed up at the rollercoaster.

A grin blossomed across Harry’s face. ‘You wish,’ he said, his voice bright and excited.

He jogged over, grabbing Malfoy’s arm and dragged him toward the line. ‘First one to puke pays for lunch.’

Draco raised an eyebrow and, pulling his arm free from Harry’s grasp, smoothed down the front of his novelty t-shirt. Harry had no idea when Draco had found time to buy a souvenir shirt already, but he’s not surprised. It’s tightly fitted and damnit, but Draco looked good. Not that he didn’t _always_ look good, the stupid sod.

‘Malfoy’s don’t “puke” _,_ ’ said Draco with disdain.

Harry laughed. ‘Then you should have nothing to worry about,’ he said, shuffling forward eagerly as the line moved up.

Draco, ever the one to get in the last word, hurried to catch up. Harry did a quick count and leaned around Draco to the people behind them.

‘Want to go in front of us?’

Draco shot Harry a glare, but Harry waved him off. ‘It’s better to be at the front.’

‘How do you know we’ll be at the front?’

The next ride cleared, and Harry and Draco shuffled up as the attendant counted out the people to fill the cart. He stopped at Harry and Draco.

Draco rolled his eyes. ‘Know it all.’

The cart pulled away. Unable to stay still, Harry leaned forward and tracked the ride with his eyes.

‘You look insane,’ Draco muttered.

Harry didn’t care. The cart pulled back into the station, full of white faced riders, and adrenaline shot up Harry’s spine. He shuffled his weight from foot to foot, a face-splitting grin on his face as the attendant pulled open the gate and let them through.

It’s only as they’re being strapped in, the attendant tightening their belts and ensuring their harnesses are locked in, that Harry felt a flicker of doubt.

Draco glanced across at him, his face pale and yet determined. ‘Don’t worry, Potter,’ he said. ‘If you get too scared, I might let you hold my hand.’

Harry grinned. He was about to retort, but the buzzer sounded and the cart was suddenly pulling away with a jolt that threw Harry and Draco forward and then slammed them back into their seats.

They pulled straight up into a steep incline.

‘Fuck,’ Draco gasped.

Harry laughed wildly. They climbed higher and higher and higher. Almost as high as Harry had flown in any quidditch game. He gripped the handholds tight, his fingernails digging into his skin, until—just at the crest—another hand grasped his.

The ride dropped away from them as they plummeted back down to the ground. They twisted upside down, glided through two loop-de-loops, twirled, spun, were thrown from side to side and all throughout Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest, but not from the ride.

As they pulled back into the station, Harry glanced across at Draco’s windswept face and saw those bright silvery eyes gazing back at him alight with fire and excitement, and suddenly wanted nothing more than to sit right where he was all day long.

‘Again?’ he asked, trying not to sound hopeful and failing miserably.

A smile brighter than any he’d ever seen from Draco lit his face. He squeezed Harry’s hand and said, ‘again.’

***

They were sitting on Terry’s bed (the furthest one from Smith) arguing about the merits of physical training on quidditch performance. Terry was off somewhere pretending not to make out with Hannah Abbot, while Smith was scratching away at some homework on the other side of the room. He kept sighing pointedly every few minutes, to which Harry and Draco would respond by getting louder.

When the conversation devolved from the friendly (if heated) debate to insults, Smith—apparently at his wits end—threw down his quill and exploded up out of his seat. ‘Would you two just shut the fuck up and kiss already?’

‘Would you just shut the fuck up and drop out already?’ retorted Draco.

Harry bit down on a snort of laughter. Smith, predictably, gathered up his things and stormed out of the room.

‘What do you think?’ asked Harry, leaning back on his hands. ‘Is he going to report us again?’

‘Oh definitely,’ said Draco laughing.

It’s a nice laugh. One that Harry had come to enjoy.

‘Although,’ said Draco contemplatively. ‘Maybe he’s right?’

Harry looked back at him, only to find Draco far closer than he had been a moment ago. He blinked and swallowed nervously. ‘Right?’

Draco shrugged. ‘Maybe we should shut the fuck up and kiss already?’

Harry’s mind short circuited. He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry and tried to think of something to say that didn’t make him sound like an idiot. ‘Maybe.’

A flicker of doubt flashed across Draco’s face, but it was gone, pulled back under a calm assurance that Harry envied. ‘Scared, Potter?’

Draco’s voice ghosted across Harry’s face, smelling like honeyed tea and cream. He smirked, the corner of his mouth lifting as his eyes burned into Harry’s.

Harry’s heart hammered wildly, but something hot and desperate coiled through him, filling him with adrenaline and making him brave. Bold.

He grasped Draco’s shoulders, returning Draco’s smirk with one of his own, feeling a flush of warmth and embarrassment and fear and desire burning through his skin and letting it spur him on.

He yanked Draco forward, ignoring the way Draco’s eyes went wide, and the sharp breath of surprise (that infuriating smirk falling away to shock and hope and desire and god Harry was just _dying_ ) as Harry pulled him forward and pressed their lips together for the first time. For the first of thousands, he hoped.

Draco tasted like coffee, and chocolate, and warmth and Harry was melting, drowning in the taste and the surprising roughness of Draco’s lips. He pushed Draco back onto the bed, his breathing heavy with his own adrenaline and daring, and offered Draco a little, lopsided grin.

‘You wish.’

**Author's Note:**

> I'll admit I went a little abstract with the prompts on this one. There's a teeny weeny bit of "Drarry on holiday doing touristy things" (read, they went to an amusement park for class and rode rides), and instead of "only one bed" I had them be roommates. The enemies to lovers was sort of vague, but at the very least the Eighth Year / First Kiss part should be apparent.  
> Anyway, despite that it was off-script I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it :)


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